


Soft Morning

by rosecat13



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, RooFi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:18:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecat13/pseuds/rosecat13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Carlos has a nightmare about Diego killing Rookie, he's rather unstable. Rookie shows up post-nightmare, as per usual, and after calming Carlos down, lays down on the couch, and helps the scientist get some rest. Sappy and soft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Based on interactions between @NightValeSciFi, @NVSSP_Rookie, and the aftermath of a nightmare orchestrated by @OmertaDiego. Twittervale: It's a nice place.

Sleeping with Rookie was like having a loaded gun always pointed at the door. He was trigger cocked but soft-handed, the warm pads of his fingers feeling out the bumps of his spine, nosing through the black hair on his back. Carlos can feel a scar on one of his fingers, some thin slice of flesh that juts out just a tad, but he’s too tired to ask, or even to care.

He doesn’t want to succumb to sleep; the mere thought of it makes his heart speed up, and Rookie notices, giving his side an extra rub.

“Shh, Lassie… no one’s gonna get you…”

Carlos believes him, and perhaps that’s why it’s scary. Because Rookie is forever tight like a rattlesnake and just as deadly, yet his chin rests near Carlos’s temple, stubble mingling with his near-black locks. The officer is relaxed, and Carlos can hear his headset buzzing softly; the perpetual background noise of Rookie’s life. Night Vale in a series of frequencies and voices. Carlos wonders how Rookie can survive so much static. Then again… it isn’t meaningless buzzing to him.

Carlos shifts and Rookie hushes him again. He’s calm and collected. Breathing, and not injured. Rookie is strong against the softness of Carlos and the Latin man wonders how he could be so comfortable. He expected the sting of a needle, but none came, and Rookie had even said that he would stay. Morning light shines bronze over them, but Carlos’s head is turned away, resting in the shadow that Rookie casts in profile.

He’s content to stay in limbo. He is warm. He feels loved. This is what it feels like to be loved. To be held, and stroked softly. To be reassured. To be told that nothing bad is going to happen. To have the smell of warm, spiced oranges and gunpowder fill his senses as he presses a bit more into Rookie’s neck. There is a line between Love and Trust and Carlos treads it carefully; he’s learned to balance. But in this moment he’d just like to float, and he does. No worries. No cares.  Just warm hands, and watchful blue eyes.


End file.
